


Off to the Races

by PrettyBoyRhysie



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alpha!Jack, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asshole!Jack, Beta!Vaughn, Beta!Yvette, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Denied orgasm, Handcuffs, Language, Mafia AU, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mob boss!Jack, More tags to be added, Multi, Omega!Rhys, Praise Kink, Pretending to be a beta (Rhys is), Rhys is a fanboy, Rhys is kinky but so is Jack, Rhys is still partially robotic, Rimming, Semi-Human I guess??, Sneaky!Rhys, Some Gore/Blood, There will be actual plot, a/b/o dynamics, dom/sub themes, some breathplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBoyRhysie/pseuds/PrettyBoyRhysie
Summary: Rhys doesn't understand why he grew up with fantasies of Handsome Jack, the murderous, megalomaniac leader of one of the biggest gangs in the damn universe, Hyperion; But, he did. When a letter is dropped off at the pathetic apartment he shares with his best friend Vaughn, that's starting to smell suspiciously more and more like their other best friend, Yvette, he pursues the offer made in the letter stamped with the trademark 'H'.The only thing is, is that once in, there is no way out.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I used to have an archive account, but can't find the password for the e-mail anywhere. Oops. Anyway, I thought of this the other day and furiously requested for an invitation, and it's all I've been able to think about writing. I'll place warnings in the notes before anything too wild! Won't be too many mentions of Hyperion or Jack in the first few chapters. Mostly just some background and Vaughn and Rhys interaction.
> 
> If there are any mistakes, sorry! Unbeta'd and all that jazz. Also written in the early hours of the morning.

When Rhys was a kid, sure, the whole cool, manly thing to do was have a hero. But, most children lost the obsession after it quickly became uncool in highschool, but dammit, he was an obsessive person. But, he kept it well hidden, most of his friends forgetting about it, for the time being. After highschool, he and his best friend, Vaughn, vowed to well, never split, as silly as that may sound. But they were bros! Bros for life! So, they began renting a shitty apartment, in a shitty building since they were in college and worked very God-Awful jobs. At that point, they had been wiling to take anything they could get.

Who was Rhys to complain about that, though? The newfound sense of freedom, the fact that he was on his own was insane! Volunteering for a possibly life-threatening (Okay, a totally life-threatening surgery) that would pay a buttload, was never on his list of things that Rhys should do: The movie/Internal Dramatic Monologue/Book. Going through with it turned out to be perhaps the coolest experience ever-- Seriously, ever! The robot prosthetic was a little hard to get used to, but the cybernetic eye? Oh, that was just awesome! Regularly, Rhys still babbled about how 'neat' it was, and in gruesome detail what it had looked like directly after surgery, which never failed to make Vaughn just a little bit nauseated.

Now, Vaughn was an accountant, working at a business firm owned by a larger corporation that didn't have much on it, when it came to browsing the EchoNet for anything plausible; Neither one of them truly minded, because it paid damn good, and it was a job. Rhys, on the other hand, couldn't seem to keep one. Back and forth between jobs like bartending, waitressing, stupid shit that didn't at all challenge him, that didn't use the fancy college degree he had busted his ass for, and that pissed him off. But, he was fine. Really, and truly fine.

"Rhys? Bro, you good?"

Rhys started, as if physically shocked, the unpleasant sensation of something sticky and wet on his face-- Drool, it was drool, which was hurriedly wiped away by the flustered 23 year old, who was currently blinking himself into coherence. "What? No, I'm fine. Didn't get much sleep last night. S'all cool."

However, Vaughn didn't look too convinced with the flimsy excuse he received all too often. What with the scent blockers, and heat blockers, and all kinds of pills Rhys was taking to reject his own Endotype, he was worried about his dear friend. Not only that, but Rhys' physician had actually ordered him to either stop blocking his heat, or his scent, so as to keep his body from doing something drastic. At least the Cybernetically enhanced omega realised the risks of ignoring the doctors' orders, and began lowering the doses of medication he took to keep his heat at bay, until finally, he wasn't on them at all. This came with it's own set of concerns, since this meant that it could strike at any point in time. Least Rhys always had an Echo on him. Vaughn very often thanked whatever God existed that he was just a simple Beta without anything like that to deal with. No knot, no slick, no problem, was his motto. Not really. His motto was more like, 'Numbers, numbers, numbers.'

"Vaughn? Now you're spacing on me!" Rhys' tone was light though, face no longer so pink at being caught falling asleep at their excuse for a dining room table. "Was askin' if you invited Yvette for this weekend. Thought about movies and what we'd do, if she comes. Besides stock up on booze, that is. Drinks more than both of us combined with no visible effects, and quite honestly, I'm a little jealous."

The laugh that was jerked out of Vaughn was just a little strained, due to the fact that Rhys was right, annoyingly so. Of course, Rhys had an excuse to be a lightweight. His biology prevented him from being able to intake too much alcohol, so as not to damage his organs and shit, since his body's main concern was to get him bred, and wow, that was overly bitter. "I was thinking some of those wings from that new place that just sprung up. Maybe some beer?" He didn't miss the way Rhys' nose wrinkled at the mention of beer. Couldn't blame him, though. It was nasty, but hell, it was cheap too, and did the job just as well as anything else did. The dark circles under his friend's eyes spoke more than his almost-never speechless friends did. He was tired, but it was more than that. He was stressed about something, and maybe upset even, and that made Vaughn nervous. He was always the moderator in Rhys' conflicts, and he really wasn't looking forward to the comforting process- Not that it was comforting Rhys that was bad, it was just how.. Pathetic he could get. It wasn't even Rhys' fault that he cried so damn loud, but the neighbours had complained about it once before, caught one whiff of the underlying Omega scent, and Rhys was stocking up on scent blockers, and it pissed Vaughn off, pissed him off enough to see red, but.. But he was just a Beta. Couldn't intimidate anything but an Omega, and who wanted to really do that?

Abruptly, Rhys stood from the table, smiling wryly at his best-bro, just the slightest bit of amusement filling him at the shocked look on his face. "Gonna try and go to bed. I want to try and find another job that won't fire me immediately, or that I won't want to gouge my own eyes out, at the thought of going to every day." He shrugged, fluidly, which was surprisingly since Rhys was an inherently clumsy person by nature.

Vaughn opened his mouth to stop Rhys, tell him he didn't need to go job hunting, but by the time he was able to articulate his thoughts into words, the door to Rhys' bedroom was shut with a quiet, resounding _'click_ '. Rhys hadn't even eaten dinner, the food on his plate remaining untouched. Goddamn Omegas and the way the Goddamn universe treated them. With a sigh, Vaughn stood to clear the table, wrapping Rhys' plate up to stick it in their almost-decent fridge for the next day.


	2. Chapter Two

The next morning, Rhys' head was throbbing. God, he felt like an asshole; Vaughn didn't have any way of knowing that it was just stress and a whole lot of tension riling Rhys up, and.. And he was coughing into his arm because it was cold as hell in his room. Like, freezing cold, and he was only in boxers and Jesus, had Vaughn messed with their thermostat? There was a sudden, incessant knocking at his door, and without even waiting for a response, the man in question busted in, looking half frost-bitten. "I-It's broken. Get some st-stuff, in a bag, goin' to Yvette's." He offered, in explanation for the sudden chill in their apartment, and though it probably wasn't all that cold outside.. But the glance towards his window, and what showed through his curtain proved otherwise, glistening, white snowflakes pressing themselves to the panes.

"Yea, okay," Rhys mumbled, sleep still thick in his voice, but even so, he began to climb out of his bed, gooseflesh pebbling his rather pale skin, which contrasted greatly with the tattoos on his chest. He couldn't help but snicker at the eyeroll Vaughn gave as Rhys stretched, and already, he felt a little bit better, since Vaughn wasn't giving him the silent treatment; That was what normally happened after any sort of tiff, and the Omega hated it, hated being ignored, hated being alone. Whether that was his biology, or just him as a person, but Vaughn knew what buttons to press when it came to that. "Now get out so I can get dressed," He said, tongue out like a petulant child's after he finished getting the words out, and yea, his friend returning the silly expression meant they were cool. Thank God for small things, huh, Rhys, he thought to himself as he began throwing clothes and underwear and his best damn socks into a bag, because who knew when the temperature would be back to normal.

An hour or so later, and they were at Yvette's significantly nicer apartment, which, mind you, had heat. The door was already unlocked, but unlike their complex, there were cameras in every hall, and hell, Yvette could take on much more than Vaughn or Rhys could, but really, was that saying much? Vaughn took the liberty of opening the door, since Rhys had opted for carrying both bags, since they were really light, Rhys kicking the door closed, behind them. "Honey, we're hoooome!" He yelled, allowing the word to draw out, before setting their things down.

The weird thing was that, well.. Vaughn didn't look too amused by that. At all. He was.. Was he bristling? Yea, he was. Okay, weird. Trying not to let his eyes linger too visibly, he gave a quick scan with his EchoEye, and Jesus, Vaughn was jealous? Jealous of what? It couldn't be the nickname, or anything-- He had been calling Yvette saccharine sweet pet-names since they first met, even though, sure, maybe at first he really did mean them.. No matter. Vaughn knew he didn't mean them now.

Vaughn opened his mouth to speak, face growing redder the longer he stumbled to find words, a quiet, low hum leaving him instead of anything tangible. "Sorry," He finally squeaked out, looking more than a little ashamed.

Whatever else he was going to say was interrupted as Yvette burst into the room, a Mona Lisa-esque smile written across her face. Even on an off-work day, her hair was still braided, light makeup still done, and unslouchy clothes were worn, making both the men in the room realise how crappily dressed they were. Oh well. Getting dressed that early on a day that wasn't going to spent working was damn near impossible, though Rhys did have a penchant for button-ups.. And ties. Long ties. Rhys was snapped back to reality, as the forceful hug he had been pulled into without his realising threatened to snap his ribs if it got any tighter. "Y-Yvette," He wheezed, reaching up to pat her on the back. Cradled in her other arm, Vaughn wasn't doing as well, but his position was certainly nicer. Sometimes Rhys wished he were shorter.

Maybe not Vaughn short, but as an Omega, being taller than some of the potential bed-partners, it just put him off. Not that they were inadequate, but.. He had a type. A type that went by the name of Handsome Jack, and was tall, and muscular without being overly so, and he was sure to be just as proportioned elsewhere..

"Ew, Rhys, wipe up the drool," Yvette snickered, pinching one of the Omega's cheeks. "You have to stop daydreaming in the middle of everything. One day you're going to be in a business meeting or something, start daydreaming, and then, you'll be fired! Or just be punished corporeally." Suddenly, a little gleam came into her eyes, one that meant that she had information to divulge, and if Yvette was anything, she was a gossip-monger, however furiously she denied it. "Hyperion, yea, the Hyperion is recruiting people. Or, so I heard. They slaughtered about 15 people in that Jakobs safe-house, and they actually managed to get a picture of the big one, the uh, the.." She paused, brow furrowing.

"Jack? Handsome Jack?" Rhys rushed to say, a slight breathless tone to his voice, partially from the lack of oxygen due to the hug, and partially because of the excitement. Not that he was teasing himself with any ideas that he might be recruited, because what did Hyperion need with a programmer, and someone with a degree in robotics. His EchoEye could come in handy though, for some situations, he supposed, but those situations seemed as though they'd be few and far between.

"You're such a damn nerd, Rhys!" Yvette said, before laughing, eyes warming up the slightest degree. And then, she kissed Vaughn's cheek and whispered something that Rhys couldn't quite hear, even with his higher-than-most's hearing capabilities. He could smell the change it had on Vaughn, his best friend, his seemingly innocent, tiny, friend, and made gagging noises at the thought that maybe, just maybe his best friends were sleeping together.

"I'm gonna.. I'm gonna go to the Guest bedroom now," Hitching a thumb in that direction, he grabbed the bag he had packed, and headed off, trying to ignore the sounds of giggling laughter behind him. He needed new friends, Rhys thought, with a shake of his head and a grin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some mention of Hyperion and Rhys together, yay! The actual romance (And there will be romance) between Jack and Rhys might be a little bit slow-burn, but the smut won't be.

The day had been fun-- Yvette pulled out her box of HoloVids, had way more ice cream than Rhys and Vaughn stocked in their own apartment, chips, candy.. You name it. As it was, they were all curled up on the couch, Rhys sandwiched in between the two Betas; It was nice being friends with two of the same neutral Endotype. Neither one of them was aggressive until it came to defense, but they weren't passive like Rhys couldn't help but be in some situations. They also got to control their own sex life, he thought, with a snort. Vaughn was asleep, his head precariously balanced on Rhys' hip, glasses God knows where. If he had to guess, under the couch, along with whatever sticky mess that they had made from the chocolate and popcorn mix, which really, was not a good idea.

Yvette was in a sleepy state of relaxation, carding her finger's through the chestnut brown, un-coiffed hair that belonged to Rhys. His head was in the best spot for that, which was almost on her stomach; Placing a kiss on the soft flesh that was semi-exposed by the pajama shirt she had changed into, he shut his eyes, waiting for the lull of sleep to take over him, knowing that he was safe and secure and okay, and that his best friends were right there to protect him if anything happened.

A few hours later, not enough time for sleeping at all, and perhaps.. Hell, who knew? 3? 4 in the morning? There was a knock at the apartment door, loud, but not necessarily forceful. Yet, the smell wasn't entirely unpleasant, if a little bit too flowery for his taste. Of course, he could also tell that it was an Omega, which explained a lot. No one really smelled good to an unbonded Omega, save for a compatible Alpha, and he had yet to smell one of those.

Groaning, he began to disentangle himself from his still sound asleep friends, cursing himself for being a light sleeper. Hopefully it was just a drunk neighbour, but in a place that was middle class upscale, he couldn't really imagine that being the case. Vaughn protested sleepily, just a jumbled noise leaving his throat, before he turned and pulled part of the hastily placed blanket onto himself, sighing under his breath. Rhys hoped it wasn't that crappy numbers are people, too dream that was a recurring thing for Vaughn. He deserved way better than that. Rhys' hair was tussled, and his boxers and shirt were rumpled, but oh well; It was early, or late, or whatever, and this person had no right to expect better of him. Against his most basic instincts, he looked through the peephole, and saw a pleasant looking woman, with blonde hair, and a smile too bubbly for the early hour. Shrugging to himself, he unlocked and opened the door, fidgeting as this Omega was already dressed and dolled up. Way to make him feel great. Her smile faltered though, and whether or not she was trying to hide it, she was sniffing visibly.

"Oh. A Beta. Your file pictures made you look like you might be an Alpha, but Betas are good, too!" Her demeanor quickly changed, and she thrust a hand forward, holding it out as if to initiate a handshake. When Rhys flinched, she looked confused for all of two seconds, before tilting her head, showing pearly white teeth in a seemingly more forceful smile. "I'm Janey, and you've got mail, Rh- Rhys? S'that how you say it?" Rhys looked at the hand, decided he had made worse decisions in his lifetime, and shook it, nodding sleepily at her hastily pronounced version of his name. Her accent was way different than anything he had really heard, but it was nice, even if it did make her sound a little bit weird. He was trying not to show visible relief at the fact that she had figured him for a Beta; It meant that his scent blockers were working, and that the smell of Vaughn and Yvette would help mask anything the blockers didn't work on. They hadn't failed him yet, though.

"Mail?" He asked, tone apprehensive. If he had mail, it certainly wouldn't be delivered to him outside of his own apartment, and normally not by someone like this. At least, not normal mail. Janey let go of his hand, glancing at the metal arm with slight surprise, though she voiced nothing about it. Perhaps his file hadn't been updated; She made a mental note to remind herself to mention that to the Boss.. And Athena, and everyone else, because no one turned down the offer to join Hyperion, once invited. Unless they just really wanted to die, or somethin'. She rummaged around in the bag slung across her shoulder, and finally pulled out the crisp, almost beige envelope with an.. An 'h' stamped on it, as well as Rhys' name written in flow-y cursive.

"See you around," Janey said, placing the envelope in Rhys' flesh fingers, closing them around the papers, before she winked and took off. Hell, she had a few more letters to deliver; They had lost a few good people in the turf wars, but compared to the damage they had done on rival gangs numbers? They were in damn good shape, if she did say so herself. The blonde just hoped that this kid had a strong stomach and a good sense of how to listen to orders, because he was going to need it.

Rhys hurriedly closed and re-locked the door, his heart thrumming in his ears. Even throughout this interaction, Vaughn and Yvette hadn't awoken, which was a little bit weird, but hell, even awake his friends were a little bit weird. Had it not been from the semi-crushed paper in his hand, he would have thought the conversation with the Omega- Janey- had been a figment of his imagination, caused by sleep-deprivation, but apparently, it wasn't. Unless his hallucinations were just getting that good. Without waiting for his friends to awaken, he tore open the letter, looking at what resided inside of it; A single paper. A single, folded paper, that he pulled out with great caution, as if it were a physical danger to him. What could he say? He was on edge.

Opening the thing, it read quite easily, as if it had someone had painstakingly made sure that whoever it was delivered to may be able to read it.

_Rhys, You have been selected for Hyperion because of your_

_\- Education_

_\- Lack of job_

_\- Lack of a copious amount of friends (Rhys scoffed at that, but decided that it was kind of true)_

_\- Lack of bondmate. We look forward to seeing you at Hyperion Headquarters._

_\- S._

Also, in the envelope, was a key that he had missed with first glance; It was light, and had an address imprinted so small he had to hold it up to where it was almost touching his nose, to clearly make out the letters. Even then, he decided to just scan it with his EchoEye, so as to save himself the trouble. Then he definitely wouldn't forget it. Whenever Vaughn and Yvette woke up.. Well, he was going to shower and eat and change clothes and then claim that he had a job interview-- Technically this was what the letter meant, by seeing him, right? Rhys just hoped to God that he wasn't murdered, but.. Handsome Jack. Oh. The Handsome Jack, leader of Hyperion, God in.. Handsome Jack form, psychopath.. This was his gang! This was Rhys' chance to see the man he had worshipped since he knew what Hyperion was, and he couldn't help the giddy smile that overcame his face at the thought of seeing him in the flesh. Though he knew that the man didn't like to be directly looked at unless asked, didn't like it when his lower-in-commands didn't follow orders, and fuck, if Rhys didn't love following orders.

Oh, he'd be having a good time with this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annnd now we meet Jack. Ho boy.

Rhys' hair looked damned good, he thought, giving it one last smooth back, copious amounts of hair gel on his hands. He was tired, and may have overestimated how much he'd need- Anyway, he wiped his hands on one of the towels in Yvette's bathroom, knowing that she'd immediately smell the minty stuff when she entered the bathroom to take her own morning shower. Oh well. He was dressed semi-formally, a jacket over his button-up, tie tucked into the waistband of his pants. Yea, he made a pretty picture, all right.

The dark circles under his eyes did make him look just the slightest bit skeletal, but hey, he liked his shape. Soft in the correct places, hard in others. Shifting, he brushed some of the wrinkles out of the legs of his pants, and exited the bathroom, opting to leave the bag. He knew Vaughn would be there when he returned, as would Yvette. One good thing about her job as a Manager was that weekends were almost always off-days for her.

The two Betas were still just as snuggled up with each other as they had been when Rhys went to get ready, and he was starting to read more into the situation than he previously had. A question for another day, he supposed, since he had something to go do.

"I, uh- Have a job interview." Rhys began, a crooked smile lifting one of the corners of his mouth, just a little higher than the other. "Not sure how long it will take. Highly confidential and all, so no information for you guys. Unless it goes well." He winked, the key a dead, heavy weight in his pocket. Why was he so nervous now? He had been waiting for an opportunity like this his entire life, yet, his nerves were beginning to get the better of him. Clearing his throat, he waved and hoped that this wouldn't be the last time he saw his friends, and /Jesus/, he thought, why are you being so pessimistic? He knew full well, why he was, though. Death came easy for people who crossed Hyperion, and torture came even easier for people that Handsome Jack didn't like-- And he didn't like anyone.

"Job interview at some sleazy bar again," Yvette murmured, and Vaughn tried hard to cover his laugh with a cough, but he ended up just laughing harder when Yvette couldn't hold back her own amusement. Rhys wouldn't ever show that something as teasing as that hurt him, but dammit, he had been in a rough position. He and Vaughn both had, so flirting with people for enough tips to be able to keep their lights on hadn't really been that big of a deal. Besides, if he were going to a sleazy bar, he wouldn't be dressed half as nice as this.

* * *

 After arriving at the address so burned into his memory, he was unimpressed. There was a crappy wooden door with 783 ingrained into the wood with what looked like claw marks, but he couldn't be too sure about that. Either way, it sent a shiver down his spine to think someone had been forced to do that. Raising his hand, which was balled into a fist (The metal one, not his flesh hand), he knocked once, twice, and in the middle of his third, the door opened, revealing a.. A girl. Another girl. A very quick sniff hit him with a very strong, 'back off, I'm taken' scent, causing his nose to wrinkle. She also smelled weirdly floral for an- Oh, that was an Omega scent on her. A familiar one. His cheeks heated up, not on his own accord because damn, he felt bad for Janey. This Alpha didn't look too friendly at all. Of course, he could be wrong about the tall, rather muscular girl. She was pretty in a fierce sort of way. 

Almost slapping himself in the face because of his own stupidity, Rhys pulled the key and the folded up letter out of his pocket, outstretching it to the woman. "I'm Rhys. Janey came and gave this too me this morning, and I figured I might as well come by today, and-" He yelped, one of those larger-than-his-own hands shooting out to grasp his shoulder and pull him inside the building that was not as crappy as it was on the outside. Hell, it was _nice._   _Really nice._ Definitely better than his apartment. Various Endotypes were milling about, some writing in what looked like blood-spattered journals, some with what looked like poker cards, and then a few, heavily armed men standing around the entrance, as if they needed security. Of course, when you were as illegal as Hyperion was, you might need it. 

"Shut up," Was the first thing the female Alpha muttered to him, sighing as if he were a simple inconvenience. No one had really taken notice of him, besides the occasional glance in his direction, and he wondered if this was a normal occurrence. The letter was snatched from his hand, and Athena growled while reading it, eyes narrowing. "Dammit, Sasha. Volunteers to write letters and then puts stupid shit like this down. No wonder we end up murdering half the recruits that come in." She wasn't talking to him, more so talking to herself, but it didn't unnerve Rhys any less. 

"I swear to all the _fucking_  Gods that watch and laugh at this planet that there won't be anything left of your body to return to your creator, if you don't get the _fuck_ out of my office and into the Goddamn market in five seconds!" The voice sounded pissed, no doubt, and utterly familiar, much to his surprise. The talk of God made him scrape through his mind on who it was that- Handsome Jack. It was the Handsome Jack, and he didn't know what to do, but Athena decided that for him, placing her hand under his jaw to forcefully close it, since it had quite literally dropped the slightest bit. Thank God his tongue was out of the way of his canines, because that would not have felt good.

"Damn Betas and their mooning over people they can't have," Athena spat, a quick little flash of something coming into her eyes. Rhys so desperately wanted to scan her, but figured she'd probably rip the damn cybernetic implant out of his skull if he tried it. A door slammed, and what looked like a young man, maybe about 25, came dashing out of the corridor from where the door slam was from, a red imprint on his face that looked like the beginnings of a handprint. He shuddered, ignoring the way that Athena looked at him. It wasn't until she took his hand that Rhys wanted to protest, but she was already dragging him down the hallway to Jack's office, opening the door without any sort of implication that she was there. Of course, Jack could probably smell the fear on Rhys, and the.. The Janey on Athena.

Remembering what he had learned over the years, he kept his hetero-chromatic eyes focused on his feet, shuffling in only when Athena forced him to. 

"He's a Beta. Rhys something or other. His profile looks kind of outdated. His Endotype isn't listed, nor are his cybernetics, but really, only a plus. Kid reeks of other Betas," Athena finished, causing some slight indignance to well up inside of Rhys. His friends smelled great, thank you very much, and in any other situation, he would readily defend them, but.. Not now. He was in a precarious position, at the moment. 

"Out, Athena. Grab Wilhelm and go fuck up those worthless bandits that try to call themselves Southsiders." Jack said, waving his hand to signal her to leave. Even if Rhys hadn't looked up yet, he could feel the mismatched gaze of the older man burning holes into his skull, something that sent just a little bit of warm heat rolling through him, low in his belly. "Well, what do we have here, Cupcake.. A pretty little Beta who smells like he's been fucking the life out of some other Betas. Didn't your mother ever tell you Endotypes don't mix together?" His voice was cold, contrasting with the connotative warmth of some of his words, but the petname sent a flare of heat across Rhys' face, and he let out a very quiet breath that he didn't really know he was holding in.

"You fuckin' mute, too? Damn EchoFiles aren't ever updated with the important shit. Here's how it goes, Cupcake. You answer me when I ask you something, and we don't have a damn problem. 'Kay, sweetheart?" Rhys nodded to this, the smell of the Alpha overwhelming him. Jack smelled like whiskey and cigarettes and leather and blood, but it worked so damn perfectly for him that it melted Rhys' heart into a little puddle of Omega-hormones.

"Yes sir," Rhys replied, still not looking up from the carpeted, and stained floor. He didn't really want to think about what made those stains, but he was sure that he'd eventually witness new ones being made.  

"Come here. I want to get a look at you," Jack's voice was predatory, low and rough, and Rhys took a few steps forward, unsure what he was supposed to be doing. Making the mistake of glancing up, he was met with one green, one blue eye, both burning with easily undisguised lust, and maybe just a little bit of anger. Anger at what, Rhys didn't know, didn't want to know. Perhaps it was the guy from before, that he had yelled at. 

"See, this is the thing," He continued, letting himself look Rhys up and down, as if mentally undressing him. "Omegas are a waste of time. Always wanna be knotted, always want to be pregnant, can't learn to fucking fight because of their bleeding little hearts. Betas are what people should be after. Shirt off. Right now, Rhysie, don't have all day," He added, after Rhys blanched in shock. He obeyed though, however shaky his fingers were as he slid the jacket off onto the floor, and began to work at the the, and buttons on his shirt. 

Apparently, Jack didn't want to wait that long. The ripping sound that the fabric of his shirt made as it was so carelessly pulled open, the opalescent buttons hitting the floor in a few different areas, made Rhys wince, as his pale, bare torso was now on display. The rumbling from Jack's own chest didn't seem to say that he disliked what he saw, and he stood, a good two or so inches on the Omega height-wise, and much more muscular when it came to physical appearance; Jack's mask did nothing to hide his dilated pupils as he leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of Rhys' milky white neck. 

Rhys' legs were shaking, with the effort of holding still, and not crying out, and not getting really pissed off because hey, not all Omegas were like that! But how could he be pissed off when this delicious smelling, attractive, and murderous Alpha was scenting him for God's sake? Jack was licking at the spot where his neck met his shoulder, and Rhys could feel himself beginning to harden in his pants, shifting to press his thighs together. 

After a few more minutes of the sensuous treatment, Jack withdrew, seemingly satisfied with his work. The gentle throbbing on his neck told Rhys that he'd probably be facing a few bruises that would need to be hidden, but his inner Omega was curled up in a sloppy little ball of hormones and Alpha-scent, and it was fantastic-- Even though he was still extremely turned-on, and all. 

"You can go now, Princess. You're in." 

"Wh- What? You don't want to-"

"No. You think I give a shit about a piece of paper that says you went to college? Or about your life or friends? I don't think anyone cares about that, Rhysie. Now get out. When I want you to move into the house, I'll come getcha." The tone of Jack's voice made it clear that this wasn't something he could argue with, so Rhys did the only sensible thing in the situation. He bolted, head down, and ripped shirt still open. Once outside, with the door shut behind him, he forlornly realised that his jacket was still on the floor of Jack's office. 

It would be a long, semi-painful walk back to Yvette's apartment. Absently, Rhys wondered if balls actually turned blue from something like this, or if that was just a euphemism or one of the other dumbass terms he never learned, or cared about.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a pissed off Yvette and Vaughn combo, and masturbation.
> 
> Rhys masturbating, not those pesky Beta friends. Also, a brief fantasy of a blowjob. 
> 
> JK, they aren't pesky. I suck at these summaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want these chapters to start being longer, and they will be once everything gets sorted out with Rhys' acceptance into Hyperion and such. At least I've given a few crappy updates today.

Rhys was certainly not expecting the welcome he got, when entering Yvette's apartment. His friends, who had been so sleepy and docile that morning were no longer so peaceful. No, they were mad. Mad as hell. Slowly, Rhys felt himself wilting, the fact that his shirt looked like it been in contact with an angry wolverine, and the bruises on his neck not helping his case. Neither was his dick, which was still half-hard and making itself obvious.

"Thought you were going for a job interview, Rhys, not a quickie." Vaughn stated, eyes narrowed. However friendly most Betas were, their tendency to become the strict sort of parental figure was ingrained deep inside them. Almost as bad as an Omega. Almost.

"It wasn't a quickie!" Rhys protested, attempting to cover himself up. The metal of his robotic arm against his bare skin made him shiver, and he didn't want to meet the eyes of Yvette or Vaughn, but he'd have to pick one of them to try and warm up to, so that at least someone would try and take his side. Oh, fuck it, he had no side! He couldn't speak of Hyperion to them, couldn't defend himself at all, and it sucked, and then- Then there was the fact that he could smell Jack all over him, and he knew that's what was pissing Yvette and Vaughn off so badly. The smell of an unknown Alpha.

"Look, it isn't like that.." He started, but it was like that. The scent of his arousal was probably easily distinguishable as well, because they had both smelled him in heat when it was much stronger. Yea, that was a shitty memory. "It's just- I- I have no excuse," He finally muttered, face and neck flushing to the point where he looked sunburned, a little huff leaving him as he fought back angry tears. Vaughn's face softened for a short few seconds, but he was still mad at Rhys for, in his mind, lying to them.

"I just don't know why you couldn't tell us the truth. Your sex life isn't.. It isn't our business, even though we make it that way. But lying? That's just wrong." Shaking his head, he shifted closer to Yvette, seeking comfort in the way of affection, watching Rhys carefully.

"I wasn't sleeping with anyone, and you not believing me? That makes me feel freakin' great, Vaughn! Remind me to not believe you the next time you need me to!" So, maybe Rhys had no tact. He wasn't known for his rationale though! He was known for being dramatic and a gigantic baby and a wimp and he hated it.

So, without saying anything else, because he felt like he had made his point, he went into the guest bedroom, put on a not ripped shirt and left the old one on the floor because, ha, yea, /that/ would show Yvette, before re-packing his bag. If their shared apartment didn't have the heat on, he would go to some dumb sleazy bar, and he would get drunk off his ass. Not that that would be hard. Omega biology kept his tolerance startlingly low, so as not to damage his precious organs, yada yada. Rhys didn't even say goodbye on his way out, but he did turn to look over his shoulder, to see Yvette start to get up, and then.. And then Vaughn put a hand on her thigh, signaling for her to sit back down. His throat burned, and he shut the door behind him, vowing to not let it get to him as he walked down the street for the fourth damn time that day.

* * *

 

Arriving at the apartment, there was a note tacked to his door. 

 

R & V

Got the 'Stat fixed. You're welcome.

-G

 

Rhys took it down and stuffed the note in his pocket, making a mental note to thank Gortys later. However enthusiastic and childlike Gortys may be, she still had a way with technology. He opened the door to his apartment with the passcode and key, stepping into the warm room with a heavy sigh. At least they had beer. Disgustingly cheap beer, and his dinner from the night before was still in the fridge, from where Vaughn had wrapped it up. Vaughn. What was Vaughn going to do to him? The silent treatment? God, Rhys hoped not. As it was, he toed his shoes off, keeping the bright purple and yellow socks on, padding into the kitchen to grab himself the cold food, and a drink. Or two.

Half an hour later, he was full and just a little bit more than tipsy, pants unbuttoned and unzipped, pulled down to his thighs, his boxer briefs tented very visibly. The only thing that scent blockers couldn't fix was the fact that his slick and his release always smelled of an Omega, strongly so, so cleanup was always a big deal when it came to their apartment, in case they had visitors, which was rare, but still- It was a nice thing to do. But at the moment, all he could think about was Handsome Jack's tongue on his neck, his collarbones, how sinful his mouth was, rough and soft, and unyielding all at once.. Rhys couldn't take it anymore. Reaching into his underwear, he grabbed ahold of his cock, aching and red and wet with pre-cum, and he felt slick began to soak into his clothing, though not nearly as much as if he were in heat. His strokes were slow, teasing, at first, but as he thought of Jack pushing him down on his knees, maybe under that hardwood desk, forcing Rhys to blow him within an inch of his life, nose nested in the dark curls that were sure to lie at his groin, maybe fuck his throat like he owned it, and Rhys was whimpering in real life, and the fantasy, spilling over his hand with an urgency he hadn't felt since he was a pre-teen. His hips stuttered forward again, and his head fell back against the couch, sweat causing a few strands that had fallen out of his coif to stick to his forehead. 

There was a thought that stuck with him though; If he were to move in, what _would_  he do when his heat inevitably struck? 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 300% sure that most friends are worthless.
> 
> JS. Warning for huge amounts of Rhys embarrassment and a confused Jack, who isn't as smart as he tries to be.

Rhys awoke with a start, the loud, forceful pounding on his apartment door unlike the knock of either of his friends'. Figures that Vaughn wouldn't come over and apologise. Rhys sure as hell wasn't going to make the first move. That would be admitting that he had done something wrong, and he hadn't! He was still covered in his own sweat and cum, and smelled like he had just been to a milk bar or something equally disturbing. The knocking hadn't stopped though, and he wasn't quite able to catch the person's scent, due to his senses being flooded with his own. Running a hand through his still damp-ish hair, he winced, before standing off of the couch that probably wouldn't ever lose the almost nauseatingly strong smell that came from his body, and God, his pants were wet in the back and he didn't even want to think about that part of the night before's experience, but the person at the door wasn't getting any more patient. Maybe it would just be the mailman, or the landlord or someone equally as boring. 

He was intelligent enough to check the peephole, and honestly? Rhys wished he hadn't. Handsome Jack, yes, _the_ Handsome Jack, was outside his door. His own apartment door, and he didn't look too happy. Of course, he didn't really look mad either, but who knew what was really going through the man's head. Though he did make it quite obvious when mad. Unlocking and opening the door before he could stop himself, Rhys stood face to face with the Alpha himself, and his uh, boss? Whatever Jack wanted to be called. Emperor? Overlord? Sir? Any of these would be fine, as long as Rhys got to keep his organs inside of him. He knew of what Jack had done to people who pissed him off, and it wasn't anything pleasant. 

Jack's pupils dilated rather quickly, and he looked briefly uncomfortable, before hiding it with a wide grin. "You get laid last night, Princess? Smells like you live in a whorehouse. An Omega whorehouse, which, kiddo, is the worst. Betas, and hell, even other Alphas is where it's at." And then Jack was pushing his way into the apartment, nose wrinkling and yea, Rhys could see where it would smell overpowering to someone at first. Whenever he had presented as an Omega, he had cried; Sure, his Physician knew that he'd be an Omega since his first physical evaluation, but it hadn't been real to him, until his first heat, and after that, it was all downhill. He was discriminated against, no matter how many times a workplace said they weren't like that; Hell, some of the other Endotypes still looked at Omegas as if they were scum or trash or equally as bad things. 

Now, Handsome Jack made his opinions obvious. He didn't like Omegas. Or, didn't want to bed them, that is. It didn't really seem as though he didn't have Omegas working for him, because there had been Janey, but in some of the very few Holovids and recordings of the man, he had spoken about how Omegas weren't worth anything more than a pretty little housewife to breed up and carry on a legacy with. Rhys could see what he meant, and that was really sad, to him.

"You in there, Cupcake? I asked who it was. Smells like a dream come-true, and if I didn't despise the whiny little shits, I might take a bite out of 'em. You plannin' on bonding with them? Most Betas are sterile, but there's no place for kids with the kind of work you'll be doing," He leered, eyes impossibly bright for so early in the morning. A quick glance at the clock told Rhys that it was twelve, twelve in the morning, and maybe it wasn't too early. The sudden, sharp pain in his cheek took a moment to register, and his reaction was delayed, before the Omega raised a hand to his cheek.

"Did you just slap me- Sir?" Rhys asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. The question was almost rhetorical, and the fact that Jack just raised a highly-arched eyebrow at him suggested that it wasn't just rhetorical, but that it was also stupid. 

"Yep! You weren't listening to me. I get very, very mad when people don't listen to me, so keeping focused is probably a good idea. Unless you like having to eat your fingers one-by-one. If you do, that's really creepy." Jack leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Rhys' belly, a laugh tearing out of him before he could really hold it back. "Now, that is just too cute! Couldn't hold it in 'til you got your clothes off? Must've been a good fuck. Haven't had one of those in a while, myself, so kudos to you. Anyway, back to the present and all, no daydreaming anymore, Rhysie. Yea, we have your bunk set up. You'll be with Wilhem, August, and Fiona. Pack a bag and let's hit the road." Tilting his head, Jack levelled Rhys with a rather cold look, a frown playing at the corners of his lips. "And wash the smell off of you. Can't have anyone thinking you've got someone to go back home to. Because you don't. Not anymore." 

Rhys was a smart kid. He was, but even he was having trouble following all that Jack was saying. His cheeks had reddened to the point where he could easily be inducted into a horticulture lab as a strawberry, and no questions would be asked, and the dried slick at the back of his legs was enough to send him running, tail between his legs, and now that Jack was here, in the flesh and in his personal space, he could imagine the Alpha's thigh up in between his legs, and _fuck,_ he needed to stop thinking like that. He'd have to discreetly pack his scent blockers, and his heat was coming soon, and he couldn't even imagine how he would be able to deal with that, since he'd be sharing a room with three strangers, and, and.. 

First, he needed to take a shower. Easier said than done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP. Sorry for not getting my ass together and posting this!
> 
> Warning for a blowjob that is interrupted, but not stopped.
> 
> If that makes sense.

Once Rhys had showered, he felt like a human being again, hair fixed just how he liked it, and medicine taken. His duffel was packed with all the necessities (Hairgel, conditioner, socks and like.. Underwear), and honestly? He felt prepared to leave his apartment behind for a sum of time not previously mentioned. But he wouldn't be away from the slightly dingy place forever.. Right? Casting a forlorn look at his full-size bed, knowing that he'd be sleeping in much smaller, he exited the bedroom, sighing as the familiar scents washed over him. Vaughn would be livid, and Yvette would be too, more than likely, but hell, Rhys hoped that they worried, however terrible of him that was.

They _had_ pissed him off, quite badly, though..

No matter. After making sure everything was unplugged, electronics wise, since it would be just his luck if something caught on fire while neither he nor Vaughn was there, he grabbed his key from the counter and locked up behind himself, taking the stairs down to the ground floor, and eventually, to where the Alpha was impatiently waiting for his arrival.

 

* * *

The car wasn't particularly flashy or anything like that. It wasn't made of gold like some of the richest men in the world fancied, but it wasn't too much of a hunk of junk. A quick scan of it with his EchoEye told him that it was a model from the 1990s that had been commended for its stability, which made Rhys feel just a little bit better about being in it. Normally, he just walked around if he needed to get somewhere. 

"Stop that. The humming. You want some music, I'll turn the radio on something that isn't the shitty electro-pop bullshit they play all the time." Jack glanced towards Rhys, his lips turned down at the corners in a slight frown. "You smell better," He said, however un-earnestly. How the kid had smelled before hadn't left his mind, and the Alpha doubted it would for a very long time. Betas just didn't deserve to smell that sweet and syrupy, but in reality, no one did, in his opinion, and his opinions were always correct.

"Sorry, sir." Rhys apologised, before mulling over the names of his new roommates, if you could call them that. "Anything I should know about the, uh, bunkmates? Are they nice?"

"Oh, kiddo, that's just too precious. Are they nice? Of course not. Wouldn't be workin' for Hyperion if they were. Springs isn't ever actually there at night, too busy shacking up with Athena, the one with the stick up her ass all the damn time, and really it's a waste. Asking them for a threesome results in some _very_ dirty looks, so I recommend it with all my heart and soul. If I still even have one. Fiona has a sister that's in the room next to yours, so you'll see her often enough. Pick-pockets. Good ones, too. Also? No dignity. I've seen Fiona lick floors to prove points. Wilhelm probably won't ever bother you, unless you bother him, first. Then he'll feed you your own intestines." Jack's tone was one of delight towards the end, and the smile that played across his features made Rhys want to melt in the plastic covered seat he was in, but for his own pride, he refrained from doing anything too obvious. 

"But, we'll be stopping in my office first. Gotta test you before I let you run around with the rest, and best, of 'em," He continued, a wicked glint coming into his eyes.

"Test? Like a math test? I thought I already passed your test," Rhys questioned, confusion seeping into his words. He opened his mouth to continue, but fell silent as a hand was put over his mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah, Rhysie. Do you really want to start off on this foot with your boss? I'll give you a test, won't take but about ten minutes, and then you're free to run around with everyone else, and maybe make some cute little Beta friends. You'll need them." Handsome Jack shrugged, returning his hand to the wheel, smirking, yea, actually  _smirking_ when he noticed his passenger lick his lips. "That's creepy, kid. If you want my fingers in your mouth, just wait until I get mad and try to break your jaw from the inside of your mouth." 

Rhys swallowed and decided to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

 

* * *

 

 Hardly anyone was actually in the building that was horrifically unimpressive on the outside, and that alone was enough to worry Rhys. Not that he actually wanted to be surrounding by people already, but now his curiosity was piqued. Without waiting for the Omega to get a grip on himself, Jack began to walk down the hallway, slow measured steps, as if giving Rhys the chance to not lag behind. Shaking his head, the cybernetic followed, once again met with the fancier-than-the-other door, that Jack was in the process of opening. Weirdly enough, it didn't have a lock on the outside, or the inside. Huh. Looks like that wouldn't be the safest place to hide if it came to some sort of attack, and Rhys had heard that those happened often enough. 

Handsome Jack practically threw himself into a chair, stretching his rather long legs out with a self-satisfied smile. He gave the carpeted floor a tap with his foot, in the space directly in front of him. "Kneel, Princess. We're going to put that pretty little mouth of yours to work on something worth its time." A predator-like gaze was levelled on Rhys' still standing figure, before the pretend-Beta quickly dropping to his knees in the previously indicated spot, licking his lips in anticipation. It had been a while since he had done something like this, and certainly not to someone he had just met (And fantasized about for years about), so, he was nervous, and it probably shone clear as day on his pinkened face. 

"Sir, I haven't d-done this in a while." Rhys said, looking up at Jack expectantly, as if he would be just full of helpful advice.

So, the Alpha helped. Unzipping and unbuttoning his own pants, all while giving Rhys a slightly disappointed look, he pulled himself out of his pants, only half-hard at this point. "Get it wet. Use your mouth, just- Get on with it. Don't have all day here, y'know." 

The lick that Rhys gave was more of a tease than anything, and Jack groaned loudly, out of frustration and maybe just a little something else, reaching to tangle his fingers in the chestnut brown hair that belonged to Rhys. The gel felt kinda gross against his skin, but hell, not even he could complain that much. 

Okay, he so could, but not before getting his dick sucked. 

"That's it, sweetie, go on. Get your mouth on me," He sighed, relaxing into the chair as Rhys slowly began to catch on, actually wrapping his lips around the head of his cock, and success- A full erection! 

Rhys' eyes were doe wide, innocent and full of wonder as he looked up at the man, blue eye closed so that his boss didn't think that he was recording him or anything like that, because he would hate to think about what the consequences would be. Jack was heavy on his tongue, and tasted quite strongly, but not really in a bad way. More because the pheromones that were present were extremely strong. 

 Then, those fingers in his hair tightened, pushing his face down to the point where Jack's cock hit the back of his throat and made him gag, throat clenching around nothing because just as quickly as he had been forced down, Rhys had been let up. Surprisingly enough, it did nothing to diminish his own arousal, and he grabbed at himself, hard, to make sure that he wasn't leaking anything that might be strong enough to be scented by Handsome Jack. Spit was starting to pool in his mouth, so he let it begin to drip, wincing just the slightest bit when it darkened the pants that Jack was wearing, just enough to be noticeable. Oh well; What was he supposed to do?

No longer was Jack being so gentle with him, though; He was pushed down and held in that position for a few seconds longer, but Rhys was a more prepared for it, this time. What he wasn't prepared for was the stutter of Jack's hips, and his cheeks burned as he realised just what he was doing. Now though, the Omega was ready. His cheeks hollowed slightly as he began to apply steady pressure to the cock inside his mouth, and fuck, it was just as wonderful as he had imagined throughout his teenage years, and Jesus the look on Jack's face was enough to make him come undone right there. Shifting closer, he placed one of his hands on the Alpha's thigh, the other grasping at himself through his jeans. 

"I'm going to fuck your face now, Rhysie," Jack said, and the faintly breathless quality to his voice made Rhys inwardly swell with pride, because he caused that; No one else. "Not optional, either." He finished with, and now, both hands were resting at the back of Rhys' skull, applying enough force to really push him down, Rhys' sensitive nose buried in the thick, dark curls that lay at the base of his bosses cock. He was struggling to relax his throat, almost every fibre of his being protesting at the mild burning sensation this was causing, but he adapted quickly enough to where he was able to breathe through his nose and comfortably have something down his throat, as big as Jack was. 

Whenever he actually started moving though, it was a different story. It was uncomfortable and semi-humiliating, and Rhys _loved_ it, the dominating nature of it, just, all of it. He was whining, he realised, and he knew that Jack had realised it too, because the Devilish gleam in his eyes hadn't gone away, and didn't look like it was going to anytime soon.

The door to the office opened, and Jack looked up, hardly raising an eyebrow, and God, Rhys was panicking on the inside. He tensed, throat pressing against Jack, drawing a quiet hum out of the man as he very expectantly waited for the person, who Rhys couldn't quite see, waited at the door. 

"Disgusting," The voice sneered, female, Rhys noted, though an age range was difficult to come up with. He'd place her at early 20s at the most. "Got a solid four-hundred from the survivors. About three from the dead ones. Worthless fuckin' pigs. Shouldn't have wasted the ammo on them. Oh, and please tell me that is not the new blood."

"Remember who you're talking to, Fiona. You'd do well to go and get everyone back together. Tell 'em I'll be out in a few."

With this, Fiona turned on her heel and left, muttering obscenities that not even Jack could quite understand. Stupid hicks. "Let up, Princess," He almost cooed to the Omega still latched onto him, but there was nothing gentle to his words. 

Rhys moved off, albeit hesitantly, because his hormones had put his body into auto-drive, and he had begun to enjoy blowing Jack, just as much as the man seemed to enjoy the fellatio. Looking up through dark, thick eyelashes, he opened up the bright blue eye, lips still parted all nice and pretty and fucked out; His chest was rising and falling at a pace quicker than normal, and his cheeks, all the way down to his chest was flushed an embarrassingly bright shade of crimson, but all in all, he was bliss-filled and confused-- Why didn't Jack want to finish?

One of the Alpha's large hands was still on the back of Rhys' head though, guiding him a little closer. The other hand was wrapped around his own cock, jacking himself with expertise unique to Jack entirely, and he shuddered, thick white ropes of his release hitting Rhys' lips, his cheeks, the front of his shirt, and even some in his eyelashes. Rhys gave his own little shiver, the front of his underwear wet with pre-cum that he could just barely smell; However, he was sure that his boss smelled a lot stronger than he did, at the moment. 

After coming down from his hormone fueled high, Jack gave Rhys' head a little pat. "Such a good boy," And yea, that was definitely praise that caused Rhys to preen, almost glowing at the words. "You can clean off your face once I leave to go take care of the spoils and hopefully, eridium from the piece of shits that attacked us a month ago, and then join us in the commons. I'm sure at least one of 'em wants to meet the new blood. And if not, you can always come back and see me." He laughed, getting right up close into Rhys' personal space, eyes darkening just the smallest bit, "I promise that I don't break my toys. Unless they want it." Winking, Jack straightened, tucking himself back into his pants which had suffered minimal damage, compared to Rhys himself. 

After his boss exited the office, Rhys leaned against one the nearby desk's legs, letting out a deep breath that he hadn't meant to hold in. "Fuck," Was all he could say in response to what had happened, looking towards the ceiling as if it would offer help, or something. Oh, yea, and he was hard, too. Great.


End file.
